


Heroes Are Made

by AvenGrey73



Category: Marvel, Original Work, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Death is really going to be in this a lot, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mutants, Science Fiction, Superpowers, Trigger Warrning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7920763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvenGrey73/pseuds/AvenGrey73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll come up with something later. But for now, it's a story about Ryan Sterling and Scott Donovan, both with superpowers. They may cross paths in the future, but in what way, it is yet to be seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Ryan Sterling

**Author's Note:**

> This is about two characters I originally made for a roleplay group loosely based off of X-Men mutant ideas and superhero comics and stuff. Not actually really referencing the real thing though.

It all began in a petri dish. In a lab, with fluorescent lights that hummed and made the white walls gleam more brightly. One couldn’t exactly say what kind of lab it was with its stark white walls, pristine stainless steel surfaces, and a desk with a computer. Was it one for vaccinations, or perhaps animal research, or maybe geological studies? 

But the Sterling family would eventually find out. 

Christopher and Charlotte Sterling were an older couple in their forties and despite years of marriage, they couldn’t have a child. They tried artificial means, tried adoption, and even the foster system. But none of these brought them a child to stay. Until they heard from the Clavis Aurea Corporation, a private corporation interested in scientific research regarding the human genome. With the mutual agreement between the Sterlings and a surrogate mother, a baby was conceived and was adopted into the Sterling family named Ryan. 

From since a young age, the Sterlings could tell that Ryan was special. By the time he was three, he could read and his communication skills were beyond his age. The boy was quiet, sweet; bouncing around the house with his dark hair and shimmering blue-grey eyes. Always he was sharing new inventions with Christopher and Charlotte, his teddy bear lab partner usually the test subject for such things. Adoring their child and hoping encourage his more mature mind, Ryan was sent to school early. As a student, he was even more quiet, but he was most happy when watching the class fish in their aquarium and when animals came to visit on the Animal Discovery day. 

This early education he received set out Ryan on a course where he’d skip grades and graduate early from high school and then college as he was given scholarships and entered gifted student programs. 

But that part of Ryan’s life is the boring, regular stuff. 

It began for him when he was seven. He had a pet kitten name Mr. Zeb that he liked to play with. Christopher was a business owner while Charlotte was a doctor, so that usually left Ryan to play by himself with a nanny to watch over him. While in his room, he was putting on a hat on Mr. Zeb when suddenly he was swept away.

_There was the screech of tires, a honk, a blast of heat as a metal grill of a car blew above, and Mr. Zeb was left on asphalt. Lifeless. Crushed into a shape that was unnatural. His kitty, Ryan’s Mr. Zeb, would be crushed under a car._

The vision made Ryan scream and cry in terror and reaching out to hold his cat, confused and alarmed, he hugged the feline close. But in that moment, it was as if a small thread was cut and Ryan could see light leave the kitten in his hands. Mr. Zeb was dead. 

Horrified, Ryan’s screams brought in the nanny, who thought the boy had squeezed the cat to death. When Christopher and Charlotte came home that day, they explained it away to the poor child saying it must have had a heart attack. Those things were natural sometimes. 

In the back of Ryan’s mind, though, he knew that it was his fault. 

More occurrences happened after that, though they weren’t as noticeable. A shriveled flower before its time, a withered apple, a stiff butterfly on the sidewalk. Ryan ignored these as best as he could as he went through school, shrinking away from everyone around him and delving more into his studies. Gone was the boy who giggled happily and showed his parents a crayon drawing of them going to the moon. Instead was a boy afraid of something he wasn’t even sure was real. 

When he was thirteen, The Incident happened. After deliberating on the self-isolation they saw in their son, Christopher and Charlotte sat Ryan down for a discussion. At first, they thought he was angry when he found out he was adopted and they kept it a secret, but it proved a surprise for him. They began to tell their story to their son, telling him about how he came to be when, while he was watching them, he saw another vision flash before his eyes. 

_An edge of a building, gusts of wind, the roar of cars underneath hurrying like insects on a grid. It was actually a sunny day, a day that shone so brightly that it hurt. In Christopher’s hand was a paper that told of his business’ demise. Alcohol stained his button-up shirt, a bare ring finger on his left hand. It only took another gust of wind and a step forward and Christopher was falling, falling down past glimmer windows, brief reflections. The sound of crunching bones, a sharp stab in the lungs, a gasp, and blackness was all Christopher saw before he was gone from this world._

_Charlotte was crying, staring at the bloodstains decorated her latex gloves. There was the sound of a beep going continuously in the silent operating room. She saw the light leave as soon as she made the cut. Her patient was a corpse now. And it was because of her. It was the last straw. She snapped and later, in the dark of night, she snapped her own neck too, using a rope. Her husband found her dangling in the laundry room the next day, and by then, Charlotte was no more._

Screams tore from Ryan’s throat as tears began to pour out of his eyes as his heart was torn into millions of pieces. Seeing their son in pain that couldn’t be explained, Christopher and Charlotte grabbed their child and hugged him. And it was just like before. So horribly like before. It was as if he could see the light in his parent’s eyes drain away and turned into glass, dimming as threads were snipped softly and they became ragdolls. Ryan’s mind was frozen with fear and pain as his hand rose up to check the pulses of his parents, two pale fingers against death white skin. And in that moment, he snapped. He was a murderer. 

It was as if his body was moving of its own accord as it grabbed clothes, provisions, cash, means of survival. His body didn’t stop to let Ryan think as he took his teddy bear and threw it in the trash, as he smashed a picture frame and pulled out the photo to keep in his pocket. He slowly walked out of their home, down the driveway, past the trees, gardens, the hammock, through the gates. It was only until he was a couple miles away when he woke up, as if Ryan blinked slowly, closing his eyes on his parents face and opening them up to the road before him. And then he ran, ran as far as he could, because he knew, some day, devils will catch up to him.


	2. Prologue: Scott Donovan

Scott Donovan lived a comfortable life, one filled with happy memories as he played with his sister Samantha younger by three years. They had no permanent home, moving from place to place as their father worked as a diplomat. Their mother, though kind, was rather fragile. Everywhere they moved, it seemed her health didn’t improve and often she laid in her bed for days. Other than the nanny, it was just Scott and Samantha, facing the world. 

And their world was amazing. Not only did they see various cities and large homes, but their imaginary world where Scott was an inventor and Samantha the brave test subject. Samantha a pirate and Scott her first mate. The two were inseparable and they lived happily. 

Things changed though, as life always does. When Scott was in high school, Samantha grew more distant from him. Which was completely normal. She had her own friends, he had his. School life was average and when Scott said goodbye to his sister every night as she went over to a friend’s place, he thought it was only a matter of time that he was the “lame older brother” that his sister was embarrassed of. But as he kept saying his little goodbyes, he began to worry. It only started as a small change, almost unnoticeable if one didn’t know Samantha. They always had a ritual for when she came home. He’d have hot chocolate ready, despite the weather, and they’d exchange “Sweet dreams” before bed. One night, Samantha didn’t say “Sweet dreams” back. Another, she didn’t even take a sip of the hot chocolate. And it went on from there as she drew away from him.

In his gut, he felt something was off with his sister and often he tried to ask what she was doing with her friends or that maybe she didn’t have to go out that night. But the more Scott tried, the more irritated his sister became. 

Then it all changed when Scott was seventeen and suddenly she was his little sister again, asking him to go on an adventure, excited, eyes shining happily. 

It was an abandoned warehouse; grey sky making the building look somber, its faded blue paint turned rusty in spots. How Samantha found it with her friends, Scott would never know. It was late afternoon, bordering on evening. For the past couple days it rained, little puddles dotting the asphalt and sidewalk. Scott’s left foot got soaked since there was a hole in it, but he didn’t notice it as his sister dragged him to a small door set in the side of the warehouse. The exit sign was missing the letter I. As they stepped into the warehouse, the smell of damp concrete, cardboard, and staleness met them, clinging on their clothes and faces. While the outside made the building look decrepit, the inside seemed it was kept up before it eventually was left to nature’s whims. Shelves of boxes partitioned off small areas, plastic curtains had shadows behind them. There were strange devices and papers scattered, most of them graphing paper. 

Puzzled, but curious, Scott let Samantha lead him deeper into the warehouse until they came to a stop in front of a large machine. Large enough to house a person inside a little tube-like room with a window in the hatch, it was connected to a series of monitors. It seemed that Samantha and her friends managed to power it up since it hummed slightly and a blue light shone from the window. 

Samantha shoved some papers in Scott’s hands. His brown eyes dropped down to the file. _Project: Wormhole_. There were a ton of graphs that he couldn’t comprehend, and some reports he barely could understand. Halfway through flipping the pages, Samantha typed in some things into the controls, opened the hatch, and stepped inside. Scott ran forward, worried what the machine could do. It didn’t seem tested, and what could a bunch of children know about machinery? He was yelling at her to abandon trying the machine, to wait to test it first when lightning struck outside. Outside was brewing up a storm again; electricity ripping through the air and crackling booms following. When that bolt struck, it sent waves of electricity that overcharged the machine. Sparks flew, burning Scott’s arms as he protected his face. He heard his sister scream from inside, he heard his name called. Reaching, despite the pain it might cause, Scott yanked at the door desperately. It didn’t budge. 

Another crackle broke in the sky above and with a blinding flash, an invisible force sent Scott backwards. His skull bounced off of a concrete pillar and blackness filled up his mind. 

When Scott came too, it was to the sound of distant sirens, the hiss of sparks flying from the machine. Vaguely, he tried to reach for the machine. To his surprise, Scott found spreading out from his fingers were bolts of electricity. 

 

The authorities took him home. There was no sight of his sister. Her friends escaped with mild injuries while Scott has burn scars running up and down his arms. He tried to explain to his father what happened in the warehouse, but his father wouldn’t hear it. Instead, his father blamed his son for Samantha’s disappearance and Scott’s mother was so heartbroken that her health declined even more. 

For a year, an uneasy truce stood between father and son as they tried to move on. Then suddenly, his mother had a stroke and died. Instead of a graduation, they had a funeral. Again, Scott’s father blamed him, the heartbreak from Samantha’s disappearance was what killed her. Furious, alone, and spiteful, Scott’s father disowned him. 

Full of grief and self-loathing, Scott began to pour his heart and soul into the research of time travel. It was a path he needed to take, something he had to do. For himself and for Samantha.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just going to start with some background stuff. Not sure if it would work out or not, but I wanted to give it a try. Anyways, let me know what you think! :D I have Scott's prologue to do later, though I might be slow at posting. Unless I get motivated, haha.


End file.
